


Feathers and Dust (DNF Oneshots + Requests)

by cyberrsoot2



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Help I Only Know How To Write Angst, M/M, No Smut, Oneshot Prompts Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberrsoot2/pseuds/cyberrsoot2
Summary: This book is just a bunch of DreamNotFound fluff and angst oneshots because I write these to get into the writing headspace so I can work on other, bigger stories. I hope you guys enjoy!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	1. Requests

I'm bored and need oneshot prompts to get into the writing mood for the other dreamnap fic I'm writing sooooo

Add your requests below! I'll do anything except smut, and if you want to request dreamnap, that's fine, I'll probably write it, but try and keep it as dreamnotfound because that's specifically what this oneshot book is for :)


	2. Sleep (Fluff/A Bit of Angst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s okay, you don’t have to hide your tears from me.”_

Dream was so exhausted.

He sat in his black leather gamer chair, the blinding white light of his monitor shining into his sleep-deprived eyes. He had already turned the brightness down all the way, but the light was still gratuitously bright. 

Dream's dirty blonde hair hung over his eyes, sticking out in arbitrary places. He hadn’t slept in over 20 hours, and that was clear due to his physical and mental state. His back was slouched, arms leaning against the brown wooden desk that had his textbook and notebook, with a pencil resting atop the white pages. His normally neat and clear handwriting was shaky and barely legible. 

Dream was in nothing but baggy black sweatpants and a gray shirt that hung loosely on his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he got up and stretched, or used the bathroom, or ate. He had been sitting at his desk for so long, time seemed to slow to a pause.

The lights in his streaming room were off, which couldn’t possibly be good for his eyes, but he was too tired to care. He just wanted to finish studying so he could finally go to bed. Outside of streaming, Dream had decided to try and get a psychology degree so he could better understand his viewers. But in order to get that degree, he had to take statistics. 

Dream was not good at statistics.

He had been working on studying for the past 5 hours straight, but he wasn’t able to take in anything he was reading. He felt hopeless. The final exam was in two days, and he had to pass statistics with an A in order to be able to even be eligible to get his degree.

Dream glanced to the time that read at the bottom of his front monitor’s screen. 

_2:57 am._

He let out an exasperated groan and rested his head in his hands, elbows against the desk. Weariness tugged at every limb on his body. He wanted so badly to go fall asleep with George wrapped in his arms. The feeling of George's warm body curled into Dream’s side was euphoric. The thought that he wouldn’t be able to hold George for another few hours while he studied made him want to cry, the exhaustion that he was experiencing making him feel overly emotional.

He was normally more emotional at night, but he was always able to hold it in. Right now, however, he was sitting in his gamer chair, eyes watering. His mind said not to cry, that he would seem weak. But the mental and physical exhaustion he was feeling had more power over him than any passing thought he was currently thinking.

A small, glistening, desperate tear made its way down Dream’s cheek. But before it could meet his chin, Dream wiped it away. He felt a fit of sudden anger fill his mind. He hated crying, it made him feel so weak, so vulnerable. He hated feeling vulnerable.

The anger he felt festered, deepening to his very core. Hot tears pricked the corners of Dream’s hazel-green eyes, threatening to fall.

_“Fuck!”_

He shouted, and in one swift, furious moment, Dream stood up, pushing the chair out from under him and sending it rolling into the middle of the room. He violently grabbed his textbook, slamming it shut and grabbed the pencil next. Dream snapped the pencil in half, before sending it hurling across the room.

Right next to George.

A tired George stood in the doorway of his streaming room, eyes barely open. He didn’t seem phased at all about Dream’s sudden outburst. 

George was wearing one of Dream’s oversized gray sweaters, George's favourite one to steal, and plaid blue boxers underneath it. 

“George-“

“Shhh,” George hushed Dream before he could apologize for chucking half of a pencil at him. The brit approached Dream, and before Dream asked what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around Dream’s waist and pressed his head against his chest. George could hear Dream’s heartbeat slow almost as soon as George hugged him.

Dream felt a knot in his chest, and more tears. he held George, holding in his emotions as well as he could. But George could hear Dream sniffling.

The hickory-haired boy looked up at Dream, his dark brown irises meeting Dream’s tinted red-green ones.

George spoke softly, his accent making his words slide out like silk. “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

As soon as he said that, Dream broke. salty tears began to fall uncontrollably. He dropped his head, nuzzling into George's neck and holding him tightly. George ran his hands up and down Dream's back to comfort him, unphased as he held his shaking and sobbing boy close.

"I'm so tired," Dream sobbed chest heaving with every breath he took. 

"Shh, shh, I know. I know," George's hand made its way to the top of Dream's head, gently running his fingers through the mess of dirty blonde locks. Dream squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned into George's embrace. It felt so good to finally let everything out. To finally be able to cry.

"C'mere, let's go lie down," George slowly pulled away from Dream, interlocking hands with him to lead him to bed.

"W-wait," Dream sniffled, wiping his damp cheeks with his free hand, "I still need to study."

George gave Dream a soft smile, chuckled, and shook his head. "No, you need to sleep. Come on, you can finish studying in the morning."

Dream was too drained to argue further, so he let George lead him out of his streaming room, through the hallway, and into their shared bedroom. The sheets were unmade. George had likely been sleeping before he had walked in on Dream and his temper tantrum. "Lie down, I'll be back in a moment," George said, turning and giving Dream a soft, chaste kiss on the forehead before leaving the room. 

The blonde man immediately crawled into bed without another thought, sleepily pulling the warm blue covers over his body. He curled up into the fetal position, bunching up the blanket to cuddle around his entire body. Meanwhile, George was back in Dream's streaming room.

George picked up the two halves of the pencil Dream snapped and tossed it into the trash bin, grabbing the top of his chair and sliding it back into the space beneath his desk. George narrowed his eyes as he bent over the desk, attempting to read whatever notes Dream scribbled into his notebook, but he couldn't read a single thing on the page. George sighed and closed the notebook, grabbing the textbook beside it and setting them on the ground underneath Dream's book bag. Finally, he grabbed the mouse of Dream's center monitor and closed all the tabs before shutting down the computer. George stepped back, doing a double-take to make sure everything was neat and orderly. Satisfied, George exited the room and made his way back to the bedroom.

When he returned, he saw Dream curled up in the center of the bed, already deep asleep. George smiled softly as he stared at his sleeping boy. He hated how hard Dream pushed himself, but he knew when Dream wanted something, he very rarely stopped and allowed himself to rest before he achieved his goal. It was quite unhealthy, and one of Dream's worse traits. But George was glad he was at least able to convince Dream to put his goal aside for tonight.

George crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around Dream's torso, burying his head into Dream's neck as he pulled the blankets over himself. He felt Dream shuffle slightly, pressing his back against George's chest for more warmth. 

George kissed Dream's shoulder gently, before slowly allowing himself to fall into the blissful state of sleep.


	3. Sand (Coffee Shop AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's been going to the same coffee shop for years. He knows it inside out, up and down, he knew all the workers by heart. But one day, he stumbles upon a new employee with an odd sense of humor.

Dream had been going to the small coffee shop around the corner for years. Every morning, he would wake up, throw on clothes, and jog across the street from his flat to grab coffee to begin his day. The workers from the shop had begun to know Dream and his order by heart, a simple, iced vanilla latte.

The warm ambiance of the shop hugged Dream every time he stepped into the building and heard the little jingle of the bell attached to the door. Plants dotted the corners of the brick walls, and there was a cat that Dream knew to be named Mogwai who roamed around the shop. He didn't know who Mogwai belonged to, but the workers at the coffee shop all took care of him. Mogwai was a big orange cat, and he would sometimes jump on to the counter in the shop and greet customers as they approached the counter to order. Mogwai was one of Dream's favourite parts of the coffee shop. 

Well, until today.

Dream approached the familiar brown glass door of the coffee shop, eyes glancing over the "open" sign that hung across the door. He opened it, and the warmth and addicting smell of muffins and coffee filled his senses. He took a quick glance around, noticing a few new people in the shop today. There was a woman sitting in the very corner, by Mogwai's cat tree, typing away at her laptop while sipping some coffee.Mogwai was lying on top of the cat tree, dozing off to the sweet silence. To the direct left of him sat a gay couple having a pleasant conversation in a hushed tone, as to not disturb the peaceful quiet ambiance of the coffee shop. 

The dirty blonde haired man expected to see the same worker as always behind the counter, who he'd grown to know as Nick, but today, there was someone new. He wore an oversized blue hoodie and large, round white sunglasses resting on the top of his head. The sleeves of the hoodie were rolled up to his elbows, and he wore black jeans along with the outfit. He was cute, definitely shorter than Dream but not too short.

Dream approached the counter and smiled at the barista sweetly. "Hey there, you new?" 

The barista looked up at Dream blankly, refusing to return the smile, "Yes, what can I get for you?"

Dream was surprised at the gloomy response from the cute barista, but he ignored it. He looked at the barista's name tag, which read "George". George had a nice British accent, which wasn't too common around Florida so it was interesting to find someone with the accent. 

Dream's smile remained on his face as he responded, "What do you suggest?" He knew he always ordered his iced vanilla latte, but he decided to change from his usual. Besides, he was trying to flirt here.

But George paid no mind to Dream's flirting, instead shrugging, "I don't know, I just started today."

Dream leaned against the counter, thinking. "Hmm, well, that's quite unfortunate, isn't it?"

The barista looked away from Dream, instead looking down at the ground. George fidgeted with his hoodie strings nervously. Dream took this as a sign that he was likely uncomfortable, so he immediately removed his arms from the tall counter and looked down. He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly. "Uh, I'll just have a medium iced vanilla latte, please."

George nodded just as awkwardly and picked up a medium cup. "Do you, um, do you have a name for your order?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah, you can just write Clay," Dream replied. All of a sudden, George cracked a smile and chuckled. Dream furrowed his eyebrows and smiled in confusion. "What?"

George shook his head and smiled, "Nothing, one medium iced vanilla latte, coming up."

The cute barista turned around to begin prepping his drink, leaving Dream at the counter in his confusion. Sighing, he pulled out his phone to check the time. He had a class at 12 pm today, so he had to make sure he left early to run some other errands and get back to his flat in time to grab his book bag and make it to his college campus. Dream was studying to be a lawyer, but since today was Monday he didn't have very many classes.

Dream had to be sure to leave in less than 20 minutes so he had enough time to complete everything on his to-do list for today. He had to pick up more cat food for Patches and go grocery shopping, because he was running low on food and he was trying to actually eat something healthy for once, and he also had to get his tires changed because of a prick who left a tack in the road a couple days back.

Dream migrated to a table nearby to sit at while George made his drink. There wasn't much to do while he waited besides scroll on Twitter a bit and respond to a few of his mutuals. He wasn't on Twitter often, but he sometimes was. The main reason he stayed on Twitter was that he had a couple online friends on there. But he mainly used Discord for everything else. 

Before Dream could open up Discord to check his messages, though, he heard his name called.

"One medium iced vanilla latte for Clay!" 

Dream smiled and got up from the chair, pushing it back underneath the table and approaching the counter. He quickly fished a ten-dollar bill out of his back jean pocket and set it on the counter, grabbing the cold drink. "You can keep the change," He said, in an attempt to apologize for the uncomfortable interaction earlier. George smiled back, seeming like he was repressing some laughter. Confused again, Dream looked down at his drink. 

Scribbled in sharpie and messy handwriting read "Sand". Dream laughed, looking back up at George.

"Sand?" He asked, head slightly tilted and eyebrows furrowed in amusement.

George just shrugged and smiled. "Enjoy the drink."

\------------

Ever since that first interaction, every time Dream had come in the shop his drink had a new name. First it was "Brick", then it was "Gravel", the nicknames kept going on and on. Quickly, it became a favourite part of Dream's day to see what new name George would write for him. 

One day, Dream walked into the shop. Today Dream wasn't in a very good mood, since it was exam season and he hadn't gotten much sleep in the past few weeks. Whether it be studying or insomnia, he was up almost all hours of the night. With a yawn, he was greeted by the warmth and melodic ding of the bell, and George's smiling face behind the counter. "Goodmorning Clay, would you like the usual?"

Dream nodded back, eyes less bright than usual. George didn't question it, though, since he knew it was exam season and he could guess by Dream's yawning why he didn't seem as perky. Dream walked by the counter, placing a ten-dollar bill on the surface and taking his place at a free table nearby. Throughout his time at the table, he couldn't help but stare at George as he worked. Dream had noticed that George was always wearing the same white circular sunglasses on the top of his head. He never once saw George without them. He was curious as to why he always wore them, but he never worked up the courage to ask. Despite being a naturally flirtatious person, he was unable to ask such a simplistic question.

While George was working, Dream watched as he slowly rolled up the sleeves to his black jumper, up to his elbows. Dream's eyes widened and he looked down, a pink blush coating his cheeks. He never knew why he thought rolling up one's sleeves was attractive, but nevertheless it was to him. 

_Get a grip, dude! All he did was roll up his sleeves, there's no reason to be all flushed._ Dream thought to himself. 

"Order for Clay!" Dream heard his name being called from the cute barista. He had grown to love the boy's accent. It was so different from any accent he's used to hearing around Florida. He wanted to ask George where he was from, if he was born in Europe. He wanted to ask George so many things, but he never grew the balls to do so. 

Lucky for Dream, George was much braver than he was.

Dream approached the counter, as always, with a smile. The smile may have only been more of a half smile, but it was still sincere. He grabbed the cup from the soft boy and looked at the black sharpie, but instead of there being some nonsensical name as per usual, there were numbers. It was a phone number. 

"What's this?" Dream asked, mentally slapping himself across the face because obviously:

"It's my number. Text me sometime, maybe we can hang out." George said, seeming nonchalant but on the inside George was FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

With a chuckle, Dream took a sip of his drink. Sweet, but not too sweet. Just how he liked it. "Sounds good, I guess I'll talk to you later then, George." Dream winked at George while badly mimicking his accent. George laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Talk to you later."

As Dream turned around to leave, he smiled.

Mogwai definitely had new competition for his favourite part of the coffee shop.


	4. Thunderstorms (Fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George attempts to make it through a stormy night whilst his fear of thunderstorms takes over.

_CRASH_

Thunder boomed, making George jump. He let out a small whimper as he sat in his bed, pulling his blanket closer and cuddling his legs close to his chest for some sort of comfort. Thunderstorms had always scared him, ever since he was a child. He hated sudden loud noises with a passion.

What George hated the most, though, was the anticipation. The anticipation of the thunder was terrible, because he was left wondering anxiously when the next one would crack. The anticipation of a negative event was almost always worse than the event itself.

It was dark, the only thing George could hear was the violent pattering of the rain against his window and the pavement outside and the wind, which blew unforgivingly. There was also, of course, the occasional crash of thunder which felt like it shook the entire house.

_BOOM_

George felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he began to shake lightly. He shut his eyes tightly as tears began to fall slowly. He hadn't slept at all in the past two days because it had been storming. Every time he closed his eyes for longer than 20 seconds, there was more thunder. It was like Zeus himself was punishing him. George prayed desperately to whatever god would listen that the torment would cease soon.

George sniffled and removed one hand which was cradling his legs close to his chest to wipe the tears from his dampened cheeks. But no matter how much he tried, they kept coming. What was worse, was how stupid George felt. He felt it was stupid to be afraid of thunder. He was 23, for god's sake! Why couldn't he overcome such a childish fear? The thunder wouldn't hurt him, so why did he tremble in terror whenever it came around?

Another crack of thunder sounded, and George whimpered loudly. He began to sob harder, giving up on trying to prevent it. His entire body was tense, and he was gripping his legs with such force that it was bound to cause bruising.

Suddenly, he heard his room door quietly open. He jumped, startled at the noise and he looked up quickly to see Dream standing in the doorway. He wore a tired yet concerned look. "George? Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the loud rain pounding down mercilessly outside.

Tears were still running down George's rosy cheeks, but Dream probably couldn't see them in the darkness. All he could hear was George's uneven breathing and his sniffling. George opened his mouth to shakily respond, when thunder boomed once again. George completely broke then, unable to hold in his emotions any longer.

George looked away from Dream, embarrassment forming in the pit of his stomach. He was really out here crying over a thunderstorm, in front of his best friend. And if that wasn't embarrassing enough, Dream had never seen George cry. At least, not sobbing.

Dream immediately understood what was happening. He was surprised, George had never told him he was afraid of thunderstorms. If George had, Dream wouldn't have let him sleep alone for the past two nights. Dream found thunderstorms calming, the rain was lovely, and the thunder added a nice ambiance that helped him sleep, like a lullaby. Clearly George thought the opposite, though.

Thinking quick, Dream tried to think up how he could best help his friend right now. He stood in silence for a few moments, staring at George, before an idea popped into his head. "Okay George, I'm gonna be right back, okay? I need to grab something."

And with that, George was left alone again. Dream jogged over to his room which was right down the hallway of their shared apartment, pushing his door open. It creaked quietly and he entered. Quickly, Dream made his way to the nightstand beside his bed and unplugged his phone. He grabbed his earbuds next to it and slipped his blanket off the bed, throwing it over his shoulder. This wasn't the best solution, but it would hopefully work for now.

George waited in his room for Dream as he continued to sob softly. His eyes were red from both sleep deprivation and crying. This look was bound to win him the "worlds most attractive man" award. He heard Dream rush into the room and he looked up, locking eyes with his friend. He was holding a large blanket over his shoulder with one hand, and in the other was his phone and headphones.

"Clay, what-" George sniffled, wiping his tearful eyes, "What are you doing?"

Dream smiled warmly and walked over to the bed, setting the stuff down. "We're gonna watch Netflix until you fall asleep, and I'm gonna be here the entire time if more thunder happens."

As if on cue, thunder boomed, and George jumped with a small whimper. Dream took this moment to crawl into George's bed, pulling his blanket up with him. He slid under George's covers next to him, lying down. George stared at him, looking confused. "Come on, don't be shy," Dream pat the bed next to him for George to lie down. Reluctantly, he followed suit and lay stick-position beside dream, pulling the covers over his body as well.

Dream chuckled, "Not like that, silly. Come on, get close." He scooted over to give George more room to get comfortable.

Rain pattered in the background and George sniffled while watching Dream, weighing his options. He felt butterflies erupt in his stomach as he stared at Dream, who smiled at George softly, with a love and warmth that couldn't be replicated by anyone else. Finally, he gave in and rolled onto his side, leaning his head against Dream's chest and hugging his arms around Dream's stomach. Dream pulled the covers up a bit more over the two of them, before plugging his earbuds into his phone and offering an earbud to George.

He took it, and Dream unlocked his phone. "What do you wanna watch?" He asked quietly.

Before George could answer, another strike of thunder boomed. George tightened his grip around Dream and buried his face further into Dream's shirt. George was breathing quickly and shakily. The area around Dream's shirt was slightly wet from George's damp cheeks, but Dream didn't mind. Dream slowly ran his hand up and down George's back, whispering comforting words to his friend to try and calm him down.

"It's okay, George, you're alright," he spoke softly, "I'm right here."

He moved his hand up to the top of George's head when George's breathing had slowed down, running his fingers through George's disheveled hair. George gripped Dream's dark gray shirt tightly, cuddling himself into Dream's side as he ran his fingers through George's hair.

Without saying anything else, Dream pulled up Netflix on his phone and clicked on George's icon, looking through his list to find something that George was going to watch but never got around to doing. He figured that would help. He saw an anime called A Silent Voice, and selected it. As soon as noise began to play from their shared headphones, George lifted his head off Dream's chest to see what was making the noise. As soon as he realized they were watching a movie, he lied his head back down and Dream moved his phone so they both could see.

The movie was sweet, but sad at the same time. Throughout the movie, thunder would occasionally boom and George would get startled, but Dream was always able to calm him down. George cried at the end of the movie, and Dream silently turned off his phone and wrapped his arms around his boy. He ran his hand up and down George's back as a comforting gesture. By now, the thunder had stopped booming.

George's eyes fought to stay open, but Dream's warm body made it difficult. Dream looked down at George and smiled softly. "It's okay, George. You can sleep now. I'll keep you safe."

George let out a small sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever god existed. He was so tired. He was still scared to allow himself to fall asleep, but he felt safer cuddled into Dream's arms.

He allowed his eyes to fall shut, and he quickly drifted to sleep to the sound of soft rain and Dream's heartbeat.


	5. Ballroom (Angst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity." -Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

Tonight was beautiful.

The annual royal ball was tonight, and somehow, each year it got better and better. Bright glowstone lit up the room, and you could hear quiet chatter amongst the people crowded in. There was little dancing at the moment, but there would definitely be more soon. The royal orchestra played a lovely song, flawlessly composed to suit the occasion. The food was delightful, of course. The chefs at the castle never let anyone down with their magnificent food. They were serving horderves, little crackers, with cheese and tomato and a small piece of chive resting atop the bite-sized dish. There were waiters and waitresses walking about holding sparkling champagne, handing them out to those who requested. White lilies of the valley and bright green vines lined the gold and white walls, tying everything together. The room was breathtaking.

The white marble floor clicked with each step I took as I maneuvered my way around the townspeople who were mulling about. The dancing was going to begin soon. This was not good.

You see, the Queen was going to be assassinated tonight. And it was my job as royal knight to protect her.

And as soon as the dancing began, it would become significantly harder to find the servants that were ordered around to make sure the plan was a success. I also needed to locate the superior of the servants, who went by Prince Dream. My "arch nemesis", for lack of a better word. Dream was nowhere to be seen, which was unnerving. The servants would be harder to locate, though.

I had stolen Dream's journal in a heist a couple weeks ago, and it had his general plan on how he would assassinate the Queen written right there. Additionally, he had his list of servants. But he had only written down their names. So all I knew was their names and that there were six of them. I didn't even know where they would be or what they were here for. I just knew they were involved.

I carefully stepped over the long trail of a woman's ballgown, eyes scanning the area I could see. Heads dotted my vision, yet none of them wore the intimidating white mask of my nemesis. My plan was to find Dream and take him in for questioning to see if I'd be able to learn about where the servants were. Maybe he'd slip up and reveal something. And although it was highly unlikely that he will slip up, without him to tell the servants what to do, they might have a chance at failing.

I swerved around a waiter and made my way near the middle of the ballroom so I could get a 360 of everyone. The chatter was hushed as the current song the orchestra was playing came to an end.

_Oh no._

As the next song began, people began to pair up. This isn't good, now finding the servants _and_ Dream would be significantly harder. I tried to get away from the middle of the ballroom, and then I heard the voice. _His_ voice.

"May I have this dance?"

My head jerked up and I spun around, coming face to face with none other then Prince Dream. His silver crown rested atop his head and his black cape hung loosely on his shoulders, the only thing preventing it from falling off being the gold chain attaching each side. The long dirty blonde hair adorning his head was pulled back into a loose bun, and his smiling white mask covered his expression. The black sleeves of his button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, cuffed fashionably. He extended his hand in a gentlemen-like fashion, head slightly tilted and eyes smiling behind the mask. This was my chance.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand in his as the music began. Dream pulled me closer and wrapped his arm above my waist. I rested my free hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes from behind the mask. They were a hazel-green, with a ring of gold around his pupils. His hand around my waist cradled me close, our bodies mere inches away from fully touching.

We began to sway, moving in circles along with the rest of the women around us and their plus ones. All the suits the men and women were wearing were extravagant, whilst mine was a simple dark blue, my favourite colour blue. I noticed Dream watching me with interest as I was deep in thought, and I looked up at him.

"Are you enjoying the ball?" He asked as he spun me around and pulled me back in. The violin played softly, a piano being the much more dominant instrument in this piece. I sighed in annoyance.

"Let's cut to the chase, Dream, I know your plans," I spoke with a quiet firmness. My mission was to take Dream and his servants down without raising any threat to the people. To the people, this was simply a royal ball, without anyone planning to assassinate the Queen.

He tilted his head slightly as we continued to move to the violin, which was increasing in speed slightly. "You do?" "I do. I know you plan to assassinate the Queen tonight. And I know you brought your servants here with you. Did you truly think that you just, misplaced your journal and that's why you weren't able to find it?" I boasted, cocky. I was honestly surprised that I managed to pull off the stunt.

It was based on a guess, because when I had went with the Queen to meet King Ag'themith at the castle months earlier, something seemed off. So I had voiced my concerns to the Queen, but she told me "That's just how King Ag'themith is". However, that didn't satisfy me. So I had snuck into their castle late at night, went into Dream's room, and retrieved the journal without ever getting caught. When I told the Queen about the journal I had gotten in quite a bit of trouble for going against the Queen's orders, but nevertheless she thanked me and let me organize the plan to stop Dream and his servants. Dream's movements never faltered as I told him what I knew, but his eyes through his mask betrayed his expression. He was nervous.

"You'd have to have great skill to steal my journal without alerting anyone within the castle. I'm impressed," Dream replied, slightly hushed. He looked behind me at something/someone again. His movements faltered for only a second, but I noticed. I noted the general direction he was looking in and continued.

"To be quite honest, the whole heist was the easiest mission I'd ever had. I suggest upping your forces in your castle. It really is quite easy to break into," We circled around another pair of people, shoes clicking against the marble tile along with everyone else as we danced.

"Thank you for the suggestion, I'll keep that in mind." He spoke lowly, frustration apparent.

"What's wrong Dreamie? Someone ruining your plan? You look concerned." I said mockingly. As the piano boomed, and instead of replying, in less than a second, I was dipped low to the ground.

This startled me, and I knew Dream could tell I was startled. His arms were wrapped tightly around me as to not drop me, and I held on to him as if that would do anything. Our faces were mere inches away. I felt out of breath. I've never really gotten a chance to admire how intricate his eyes are, since I never got close enough to see them. There were small speckles of dark green, which clashed with the gold ring around his pupils perfectly. The hair which had previously fallen out of his bun from hung in front of him, the dirty blonde lighting up in the glowstone light. I saw his eyes tracing every part of my face, to my eyes, then my cheekbones, then my lips...

I was instantly snapped out of my trance when Dream lifted me back up and we resumed dancing. I shook my head quickly, as if I were shaking the thoughts out of my mind like an etch-a-sketch. This was no time to be having these thoughts!

"What's wrong Georgie? Someone make you flustered?" He asked, mocking my earlier question. I glared at him and ignored the question. We continued circling around the ballroom as the music boomed. The orchestra seemed to be around halfway through the piece, which still gave me time to figure out where his servants were located. I already had a general direction of where one was. Hopefully I could remember which direction it was in.

"Dream, I know your plans, which means I know how to stop them. Why don't you and your servants leave while you have the chance, instead of stick around and get arrested for treason and possibly given the death penalty?" I definitely exaggerated with that last part. Royalty was not allowed to be given the death penalty by other royalty unless the ruler of the opposing kingdom allowed it. But Dream didn't know that. I knew this because he never bothered to learn about the rules of other royalty.

"Ah, but on the contrary, how do you know that we haven't prepared for your plan?"

"You didn't write it in your journal."

"I don't write everything in my journal. Do you know where my servants are located?"

This planted a small seed of doubt in my brain, but I shook it away. If I doubted my abilities even a bit, Dream would succeed. "I can call the royal guard and have you arrested right now. I then can have you thrown in jail and tortured until you give up where the servants are. Believe me, Dream, I will not hesitate." I threatened quietly.

He chuckled and scoffed. "Your orders were to keep this quiet. Knowing you, this means you didn't tell any of the royal guard about this. You're cocky, George, and the idea of you being able to claim full credit is too desirable to you to pass up. If you wanna lie to me, try harder."

What he didn't know, though, was that I was not lying. And I would not hesitate. But I wasn't done with him yet.

"You're right, I am cocky. But regardless of if I informed the royal guard or not, I would still get full credit. Believe whatever you want, though. The only thing you'll get credit for is a failed plan."

"Oh, but on the contrary, my plan is already in its works. "Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt." Sun Tzu." He quoted.

"'The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting' Sun Tzu." I countered.

He didn't hesitate as he replied, "'A wise man gets more from his enemies than a fool from his friends.' Baltasar Gracian."

"'Rivalry discovers that courtesy overlooks.' Baltasar Gracian." I smirked. Nobody knew ancient historical quotes like I did. But, of course, he responded immediately.

"'I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.' William Shakespeare."

I scoffed. "'Nothing good ever comes of violence.' Martin Luther."

"'Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.' Niccolo Machiavelli."

We circled quicker as the music was entering its climax. Dream moved his hand slightly lower, now cradling my lower back. I hesitated, the sudden movement surprising me and making me slightly flustered. The music continued in speed and so our movements sped as well. I quickly snapped back to reality and tried to come up with a counter, but nothing came to mind.

He smirked, closing the space between our faces by a a few centimetres. Now we were only a couple inches apart. I looked up at him, eyes wide. Was he...

His lips inched ever so slowly, closer to mine.

"I win," He spoke softly, cockily. I was brought back to reality instantly by the egotistical remark and scoffed, pulling my face away from his. We continued swaying, the music's volume and speed slowing. "Dream, you will not succeed with your plans. You will fail, and when you fail I will laugh at you as you are taken to jail by the royal guard. I will visit you every day, and laugh at you. And I will remind you of the failure you are," I spoke calmly, although slightly shaky from the previous interaction.

My harsh words did not startle him, however. Rather, he looked delighted. He smiled at me sincerely as the music slowed, the climax dying out. "Oh, but my dear George," He brought his voice to a whisper, "We've already won."

The music came to an end, and as we stopped dancing, he looked to the front of the room. I felt my heart stop in my chest as I looked to the direction. there, the Queen stood, ready to give her annual speech. She gave a lovely smile to the people, and the crowd applauded as she made her appearance. But in the corner of my eye, I saw it.

_The gun._

As she opened her mouth, the deafeningly loud shot rang through the room. And with that, the screaming ensued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kinda half-assed, sorry, but I'm working on something really cool so stay tuned for that!


End file.
